


Of Fishy Situations, Misunderstandings, and Gross Teenage Boys (and Their Feelings)

by JayJEx



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Crack, I did it guys I'm a scaley, It's official, M/M, Zelda is a good friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 20:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13578246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayJEx/pseuds/JayJEx
Summary: In which Sidon is confused, Link is a Mess™, and Zelda is a great and supportive (if slightly exasperated) friend.





	Of Fishy Situations, Misunderstandings, and Gross Teenage Boys (and Their Feelings)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to dedicate this work to my friends A. and S. for not ditching me to be alone and gay™ in Texas. They'll probably never read it (I certainly hope they never read this at least omg), and they definitely deserve a lot more out of me then some disgusting scaly SidLink fanfic, but hey, it's the thought that counts right?
> 
> My first fic in about 4 years and it's some shitty LoZ scaly fanfic. Truly, I am a garbage human being. Come to think of it, my last fic was about a redheaded shark boy from a swimming anime. Maybe I just have a type?
> 
> Inspired by that one time I hid behind a garbage can to hide my bedhead from my crush.

To say that Zelda felt surprised was an understatement.

At this point in her life, Zelda liked to think of herself as fairly difficult to faze. Over the course of her hundred plus year life span, she’d experienced blinding euphoria that transcended all description; depths of despair that clawed and tore at the heart, almost physically weighing her down; the works - the whole package, all of that and everything in between. She’d witnessed all of her dearest friends die (well - kinda, most of them at least - does Link’s really count?). She’s become the literal avatar of a goddess, walked into the domain of the primal incarnation of evil itself, and held it in its place for a century.

Suffice it to say, Zelda’s seen some shit.

And Zelda would like to think that she knows Link pretty well at this point. He’s been coexisting with her for the most of her century long lifespan. Granted, he may have been slightly dead for the better part of that timespan, and it’s certainly within the realm of possibility that losing the vast majority of the contents of his brain may have somewhat altered his personality, but-

Well, if there’s one constant that applies to Link no matter the circumstance or situation, it’s his indomitable courage. She’d watched him scale a sheer cliff with nothing but his bare hands, pure grit, and determination. She’d watched him jump off of said cliff, waiting until the last possible second - until she was ready to scream and tear her godly hair out, because she had wasted 100 years distracting some stupid pig, buying time for him to finish cooking in that godforsaken shrine, only to have him pop out and immediately jump off a cliff - to pull out his paraglider and safely float along to the ground below. She’d watched him fight bokoblins, guardians, lynels, hinoxes - the incarnation of evil manifest as a calamitous force of nature - she’d watched him walk into his own death -

Zelda was starting to realize that a lot of the aforementioned “shit that she’s seen” could also be categorized as “shit that Link’s done.”

In any case, if there was a single aspect of Link’s personality that Zelda was willing to put money on, it was his unerring ability to go, steady and unflinching, into any situation with no hesitation - alone, with no memories, almost literally naked into an unfamiliar world; by her side, staring evil incarnate in it’s disgusting beastly face - it is, she thinks, more so than his skill with a blade or his wit or his charm, what truly sets him apart as a hero. Zelda can always count on Link’s courage.

All of which is why she found herself left completely and utterly shocked by the fact that Link was currently curled up and hiding underneath the desk in her room.

\----

Towards the tail end of their “Journey Around Hyrule so that Zelda can Finally Stretch Her Legs and See How Things Have Been (and Also, Like, Probably Some Political Stuff or Something),” Zelda began to notice a shift in Link’s behavior.

Their circuit around Hyrule had begun with a trip to Gerudo Town to meet Riju, the new Gerudo chief. Thankfully, Riju turned out to be about her age (or, depending on how you looked at it, about 100 years younger than her?), which made things a lot less stressful. The two of them, as young leaders of their respective races, found a lot of common ground, and they got along pretty well. She hoped.

From the desert, they had went north to Rito village, where she met Kaneli. The Rito elder was certainly different from Riju, but he was wise, and treated Zelda with kindness. Bludo, of Goron city, was similarly kind and wise, if somewhat more boisterous.

Zelda had hoped that their visit to the Zora’s domain would be the least stressful. There technically wasn’t any need to introduce herself to King Dorephan, seeing as he already knew who she was, and the Zora had always been relatively close allies of the Hyrulians anyway.

Her faith in those assumptions was somewhat shaken when she noticed how strange Link started acting.

For the first part of their journey, Link had acted as her support system. She was still young(ish?) and inexperienced as a ruler, and her diplomatic skills were slightly rusty at best, and she wasn’t exactly sure how the leaders of the other four races would react to an attempt at reestablishing centralized Hylian rule. Link, having already met the current leaders of the four races and, like, at least half of the entire population of Hyrule at some point or another apparently, took a lot of the trouble out of introducing themselves, and his quiet air of aloofness was her one constant familiarity in an otherwise decidedly unfamiliar land. She’d come to rely on it quite a bit, to the point that it worried her a fair amount when she noticed it replaced by a general sense of unease etched plainly across his features.

Well, that was probably a generous assessment at best. Zelda could hardly attribute her realization of Link’s strange behavior to her own skills in perception. She would have had to have been blind to miss the way he had very clearly almost lead them off of a cliff.

They’d elected to take a break, Link being quick to attribute the previous mishap to his weariness, but now that she was paying proper attention, Zelda could see clearly how strange he was behaving. He was fidgety, tense, and clearly lost in his own thoughts. He’d taken their water skins to a nearby pond, which Zelda interpreted as a quiet plea for space.

She couldn’t really fault Link for being antsy. Though she wasn’t privy to the exact nature of their relationship, Link and Mipha had always been close. Perhaps, now that his quest was over, the lingering remorse death of his friend had finally caught up to him. It made sense, especially given how close to the Zora’s domain his strange behavior began to surface. She could hardly blame him if that was the case; she herself was no stranger to lingering guilt and sadness surrounding the deaths of loved ones.

Still, as much as Zelda would love to give Link space, he was certainly taking his sweet time getting water, and, seeing as she’d been trekking all day, she was pretty thirsty. She waffled on it a bit, not wanting to deny his very clear request for alone time, but eventually her thirst won out, and she began making her way down the path she had seen him take towards the pond earlier.

She found him crouched down, pensively staring into the pond, their water skins sitting forgotten on the floor next to him. His head turned back slightly toward her as as he noticed her approach - surprising, she noted, given his recent history of becoming so lost in thought that he wandered straight off of cliffs - but he otherwise gave no protest of her presence, which she took as a sign that he didn’t mind her here with him.

She could see Link’s reflection in the water as she crouched to grab her water skin and quench her thirst, his normally passive face schooled into an intense expression as he squinted his eyes in concentration. Clearly, whatever was going on in his head had him completely occupied.

Zelda - well. Zelda couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty. Logically she knew that none of the events of the past century had been her fault - that she had done her best, given everything she had to prevent the calamity from rising - but still, she couldn’t help but feel - but wonder - had she awoken the power within her just a little earlier -

She quickly cut off that train of thought.

Regardless of fault, she owed it to Link to at least try to help him with whatever worry had him so preoccupied right now. He had already given her so much - saving her life all those years ago, giving his own (kind of) in defense of her - the least she could do is listen to whatever troubles he had on his mind. And even if none of that was true, Link was her friend, and she’d be darned if she let her friends go through something alone.

“Link,” she began, somewhat hesitant, “is something troubling you?”

He turned to face her at the sound of her question, the full force of his inscrutable gaze now schooled on her instead of the water. His expression shifted, becoming more and more anxious and uncertain. He seemed to be considering a question in his head, shifting back and forth in his response, thinking.

“Link,” she repeated, softer now, trying to coax him into revealing his thoughts, “it’s alright. Whatever’s bothering you, you don’t have to go through it alone.” And it was true; Zelda was here with him now. He’d struggled alone for long enough. She gently placed her hand on his arm in what she hoped was a comforting gesture.

He paused to consider her words, his expression shifting once more, this time from general anxiety back to pensivity, as if he had to parse the contents of her statement. He drew closer, fixing her with the most intense expression she thinks she’s ever seen on his face and-

“Do I have a zit?”

-what?

“What?” Zelda asked, confused. Link brought his finger up to his face, indicating a spot on his cheek. 

“Here,” he said, pointing, “is this a zit?”

Zelda was lost.

“I-” she took a look at the spot on his face he was pointing at. Sure enough, there was a tiny red bump right under his finger on his cheek. “I-I guess?” she somehow managed to find her voice through her confusion.

He quickly pressed his entire hand into his cheek, as if trying to feel how big the offending acne was. His expression shifted back to worry, and he broke his gaze off, turning back to face the pond.

“It’s not too noticeable or anything, is it?” he asked, the worry seeping into his voice this time around, keeping his gaze on the pond that - she realized with a jolt - he was using as a mirror.

Zelda was- well, she supposed, she had come here to reassure him, hadn’t she?

“It’s...hardly noticeable,” she answered truthfully - the thing was tiny, and she certainly wouldn’t have noticed without him pointing it out to her - though, perhaps, given her clear lack of perceptive abilities - that probably wasn’t saying much. He turned back to her again, his face a strange mixture of anxiety and tentative relief. Zelda did her best to school her expression into something other than blatant confusion.

“...you’re sure?” he asked quietly. She nodded in response.

It seemed enough to reassure him, if his facial expression was anything to go off of. He looked much less worried than before, at least.

“You really think so?” he asked, looking and sounding relieved.

“O-of course,” Zelda took pride in the fact that she only stuttered slightly.

He turned back to the water, lowering his hand from his face, and turned his head side to side repeatedly, as if trying to look at it from different points of view. Then, seemingly satisfied, he gave one final huff and a quirk of his lips, before grabbing his own water skin, refilling it, and casually walking away from the pond as if he hadn’t just fried all of Zelda’s neurons.

“What?” she demanded incredulously to her reflection after he left.

\----

“Am...I interrupting something?” the question forced Zelda back from whatever astral plane she had briefly ascended to. Sidon - she had been so distracted by Link’s...antics that she’d forgotten Sidon was here - tilted his head to look past her to the desk, where the back part of Link’s bright blue champion’s tunic was still very clearly visible.

Technically speaking, Sidon has also coexisted alongside her for the majority of her life, though, granted, she didn’t know him anywhere near as well as she knew Link. As a child, he had been as sweet as he was adorable; now, although he was decidedly less cheek pinching-ly cute, it was immediately clear to Zelda upon her entry to the Zora’s domain that Sidon’s kindness had remained throughout her century long battle with the Calamity. He had been quick and warm in welcoming Zelda to the Zora’s domain on her diplomatic trip to reunify Hyrule under the crown, and it became apparent through his interactions with his people as he led them through the domain that he was well respected, and that he treated his people with kindness. He had an infectious smile, and seemed to radiate positivity.

He certainly didn’t seem like someone Link would run away and hide from at the sight of.

And yet, somehow, the moment a knock on the door resulted in Sidon’s entry (and subsequent enthusiastic greeting), Link had squeaked - squeaked - and jumped off the bed, where the two of them had been lounging together prior, across the room and under the desk in the back of the room.

Zelda really had no clue what Link was trying for here. Stealth had never been his strong suit (how he’d managed to slip into the Yiga Clan hideout that one time was beyond her - mostly persistence, according to him), and even if he was particularly stealthy, Sidon had already been in the room with them by the time Link had scrambled away and under the desk. There was no way Sidon didn’t know where Link was hiding, and there was no way Link didn’t know that Sidon knew where he was hiding.

Well, strange behavior or not, Link was her friend first and foremost, and he very clearly wasn’t exactly in the mood to see Sidon right now. Zelda had absolutely no clue what was going on in that head of his, and while she wished Link had been more subtle about his avoidance of Sidon (she could only hope his display hadn’t been too offensive), it was her duty as Link’s friend to cover for him. She supposed.

She would, of course, also have to find out what the hell was going on. But first thing’s first.

“Did you need something, Prince Sidon?” Zelda did her best impression of a neutral facial expression, pointedly ignoring the fact that her knight was currently hiding underneath her desk. She could only hope, of course, that Sidon would be forced to play along.

“I...had been hoping to discuss the Zora’s continued jurisdiction over the waterway of Hyrule,” the Prince, for his part, seemed aware of what she was doing, glancing past her to Link’s clearly visible backside, but he went along with it anyway, something for which Zelda was grateful. If he was offended by her blatantly obvious attempt at misdirection, he didn’t show it. If anything, he mostly seemed confused.

Zelda could relate.

“Certainly,” she responded as casually as she could, “although I’m afraid, unfortunately, that at the moment I happen to be, ah,” she hesitated slightly, unsure of what to say, “otherwise occupied. Could we perhaps discuss at…a later time?” Gods, she hoped she seemed at least somewhat normal.

Sidon considered her, eyes seeming to glance back and forth between herself and Link’s embarrassingly bad hiding place (she could only guess as to what was going through Link’s head at the moment, being unable to see his facial expression), before his expression shifted, as if he suddenly seemed to come to a realization.

“B-but of course,” he stammered, before quickly turning and leaving the room in a hurry, closing the door somewhat sharply behind him.

Zelda had too much going on to even begin to consider what Sidon was thinking.

“Link,” she said, completely done with...whatever this was, “what in the world is going on?” She turned around to look at his hiding place under his desk, to find-

-only to find that Link had since left his spot under her desk and was standing in front of her mirror, desperately running his fingers through his hair.

Her confusion continued to mount.

“Link!” she exclaimed, this time snapping him out of his...whatever the heck this was, and he paused in his furious hair brushing to turn around quickly and look at her. He, no doubt, did his best to school his features into a neutral expression, but he couldn’t hide the wild, haunted look in his eyes, or the tension in his jaw and shoulders.

He was genuinely afraid.

“What,” she tried again, gentler this time, “is going on?”

The fear seemed to slowly drain from his body, and she watched as, with a sigh, his hunched shoulders lowered themselves back to a semi relaxed state, although his facial expression still maintained a modicum of apprehension. He still seemed reluctant to answer, so Zelda shifted closer to him, placed her hands on his shoulders and stared into his still uneasy face.

“What. Is. Going. On.” She enunciated for him again, slowly this time, maintaining their eye contact as best she could. He hesitated still, as if considering what he should say, before he apparently gave up on words entirely and resorted to gesturing with his finger once again, which he raised and pointed at-

Well, at this point in her life, Zelda had spent quite a lot of time traveling together with Link, and she’d come to the conclusion that he was nothing short of a gross teenage boy. Perhaps her standards were slightly higher than average; she was a princess after all, and she’d been training in the finer points of etiquette her entire life, whereas he had all but been thrust into knighthood, with no noble background to speak of. It probably wasn’t fair to hold him to her standards of decorum.

Still, she’d once seen him, at a fancy banquet including a veritable who’s who of Hyrulian nobility, after spilling some sauce onto his shirt place the part of his shirt that he had just spilled sauce onto into his mouth, in an attempt to suck the sauce out.

That couldn’t have been normal.

Although, that wasn’t to say that he wasn’t attractive. Link had always been naturally pretty. Zelda remembered feeling jealous, while the two of them had been traveling together, of the fact that all he needed to do to maintain his looks was to pull on his clothes, throw his hair into a messy ponytail (her own hair was always a nightmare of a rat’s nest, and she’d have to spend a substantial amount of time just brushing it to get it to look even somewhat presentable), and get up and go.

Suffice it to say, she never knew Link as someone who cared about his own appearance to much. As far as she new, he’d never even owned a hairbrush.

All of which is why she found herself left completely and utterly shocked by the realization that Link had been sent running and cowering underneath a desk by nothing less than the unruly strand of hair he was currently pointing at.

“What?” she asked, incredulous.

He blinked. “What do you mean, what?” he asked, having the nerve to look and sound confused by her reaction. “This! Do you not see this?” he asked, pointing even harder at the wayward strand of hair.

Zelda blinked and shook her head, growing increasingly incredulous as the conversation continued. It was just a small cowlick, admittedly noticeable, but even then, it was only one single strand. She could hardly see why that justified literally running away and hiding from someone. 

She pursed her lips together, taking a deep breath in an attempt to keep some semblance of her composure.

“You mean to tell me,” she began quietly, “that you snubbed Prince Sidon and jeopardized my political relationships so that he wouldn’t see your bed-head?”

To his credit, Link had the decency to look sheepish.

“Look, I -” he said, his hand dropping, eyes shifting downward to avoid Zelda’s gaze, “I know it’s dumb.” He fidgeted with his hands, struggling, as he always did, to find the words to express himself. He turned away, this time with a blatantly guilty expression on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

Zelda sighed. She could never stay mad at Link for very long.

“Okay,” she started, resigned, “why is it so important that he not see your bedhead?” She supposed it made sense to start with the part that she was confused about herself.

Link somehow managed to look even more ashamed at her question.

“Link,” she said, sighing again. “I’m not mad, ok?” she began, trying to soothe him. Whatever was going on between him and Sidon clearly has Link upset, and if she wanted to help him, the last thing she needed to do was add to his worries.

Link sighed again. “I just,” he said hesitantly, “I’m just worried. He’s a prince, you know? I don’t want him to think I’m a slob or something.”

That answer gave Zelda pause. “What about me?” She asked, incredulous again. “Why aren’t you all freaked out about your appearance when I’m around?”

Link’s eyes widened as he seemed to realize how rude he had sounded.

“Well- I mean-” he stuttered out, desperately trying to cover his tracks, “It’s just- you already know I’m a slob, so-” he began fidgeting with his fingers again, “I mean, not that- of course it’s important for the royal guard to look- I just-” he huffed, finally, seeming to give up on words again. “It’s just different for him. He always looks so pretty,” and his eyes softened as he said the last part, his fingers pressed together sheepishly, his cheeks turning just the slightest bit pink, and-

Suddenly Zelda knew exactly what was going on.

“T-That is to say-” Link seemed to take her continued silence to mean that she was offended again, and began quickly scrambling over himself to try to placate her, “I m-mean- uh, n-not that you’re not pretty too- uh, because you are, of course- but- it’s just that-”

Zelda held her finger up, and he paused in response. His face was redder than she’d ever seen it before in her entire life.

The implications of Link’s recent actions were interesting to say the least. She hadn’t been aware that Link preferred men, which was a little worrying. Not because she minded, or that she thought it was wrong or anything; more that she had considered herself to be Link’s closest friend, and the idea that he’d failed to mention something so important to her was a tad troubling.

She supposed it wasn’t too surprising. Being gay - or bi, or whatever he identifies as - wasn’t exactly widely accepted in Hyrule. And anyway, Link always had a nasty habit of keeping all of his problems and feelings bottled up and stored away, where no one could see them, which couldn’t be healthy for him. Link had always been willing to help her with whatever she needed; she wanted Link to feel as open to sharing his burdens with her as she felt about sharing hers with him. She wanted to show Link that she was here, and that she cared about him. She had to be supportive.

She’d deal with the implications of Sidon being a fish later.

For now, she walked over to Link’s pack and began rummaging through it until she could find what she was looking for (all of her stuff was in there too, so she didn’t feel too bad about going through it without his permission). She could feel his tentative gaze on her back, following her questioningly as she searched, his apprehension nearly palpable, until she finally found what she was looking for. She pulled the item out of the bag, closed it again, and turned back to face him.

“This-” she said emphatically, holding the item up for him to see, “-is a hairbrush.”


End file.
